


DayDreams

by SurprisinglySane



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Cute, Daydreaming, M/M, No Smut, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, chase is adorable, house is still wierdo, i really dont like cuddy or cameron, my longest fic yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1792927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurprisinglySane/pseuds/SurprisinglySane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chase has a vivid imagination, but his mind often chooses the worst places and times to harass him with fantasies. And of his boss no less. He's taken to so many different places but it's no use if it's only fantasy. But perhaps... It won't remain that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Infections and Swimsuits

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna try to post two or more chapters a week, but I make no promises. Enjoy!

Chase was sitting in the deserted group office, chewing on the end of his pen gingerly. He was working on a crossword puzzle as golden-orange light streamed into the room through the blinds. Half of the puzzle was filled in with black ink, but he wasn't really interested in it.

His mind wandered freely among fluffy wave-caps of crystal blue waters. A sunset bled into the horizon as the sea spray licked at his face, cooling the beginnings of a sunburn. Lying on a surfboard as the waves rocked him always soothed his nerves when he was young, quelling any fire burning in his gullet. When he finally closed his eyes and laid the side of his face on the cool waxed surface of his board, he began to hear a far off whirring. Then, suddenly, a jet ski pulled up beside him and an arm reaches down to splash water onto his face. He jolted back, falling off into the warm pacific liquid that burned his lungs slightly from his surprised gasp of water. When he broke the water to confront his assailant, the face he was met with was not at all what he expected.

It was a smirking House.

“You look like a drowned rat. Why did you jump in like that?” he joked sarcastically. Chase grabbed onto his board and glared at his boss.

“What the hell was that for? I could have drowned!” Chase lashed out halfheartedly. House rolled his eyes and shifted slightly in his seat.

“You're an Aussie, you're practically a dolphin. Why would I think you couldn't swim?” He held a thoughtful expression for a moment before his brow crumpled in a near unnoticeable fashion and he looked down to Chase. “You're fine though right?”

Chase's blush darkened, feeling very nervous under his mentor's concerned gaze. He suddenly noticed the intense ice blue eyes that chilled him even in the warm glow of the setting sun. Averting his gaze, his eyes slid down House's chest and appreciating the grayed forest of hair growing there. Although House was disabled, he was nicely toned without any noticeable excess body fat, which Chase appreciated nicely. When his gaze strayed to the older man's black and white swim shorts, he suddenly became aware of his obvious ogling. He blushed brightly and looked away.

“U-uhh... I...” he stuttered, feeling his heartbeat quicken and his throat tighten. A deep, rumbling chuckle sounded behind him, setting his cheeks aflame once again. House leaned down and softly gripped one of Chase's wrist, making the younger man turn.

“Come on, it's about to get dark. We should get on back to land.” he said in a mock-serious tone, a smile twinkling in his eyes. “Wouldn't want the Wombat to get sick.”

Their eyes locked together with a subtle intensity that left Chase tingling all over and his wrist electrified. Silently, House's eyes asked him for his trust, for some sign of reciprocation of his affections. Chase's breathing hitched and he smiled radiantly.

“All right.” he finally responded, turning fully and pulling himself up behind House on the white jet ski. They both got situated before looking off at the sunset, four-inch high sun sending ribbons of orange crème into the lightly purpling sky. After a sweet and comfortable moment of appreciating the skyline, House turned to stare into Chase's ocean-blue irises that were soon half-lidded. They slowly inched toward each other until their lips softly brushed, sending electrical currents through both of them. After pulling apart, Chase blushed shyly and House smirked devilishly.

“C'mon, Wombat. Let's go.” House chuckled over his shoulder with a hunger swimming in his eyes. As they zoomed off to a no doubt exciting night, Chase held fast to his knight on a white jet ski.

“Chase? Cha~se?! CHASE!!” House's yell shattered Chase's fantasy and expelled him into reality. He flinched and dropped his pen and crossword booklet that had miraculously remained in his hands during his momentary nap. When he looked up at his boss, he was praying to god that he didn't say anything in his sleep as he often did.

“Yeah?” he yawned, his jaw stretching uncomfortably. House raised an eyebrow for a moment before he saw the rest of the team walking swiftly toward the room. The eyebrow returned to it's original position and he turned to the door as they entered the room. Cameron opened her mouth right before getting cut off by House.

“Let me guess, our patient just had cardiac arrest and horrible white count?” House asked, grinning impishly. The two fellows gaped, looking like fish out of water. Chase chuckled quietly in the corner as he mused to himself in his mind. The others would never connect the dots as fast as House, they all knew that, yet they still became surprised whenever their boss showed them up. But not Chase, he kept up with House, just a step behind at the most. Intellectually, he was a level below his superior but he remained amazed with how large that level was. Cameron was the one to break the stunned silence.

“Y-yeah... How did you-”

“It's an infection! Like I said before, but no one listened!” House whined, throwing a hand dramatically to his forehead. “Why hath thou forsaken me, God, with such ignorant ducklings?” Chase rolled his eyes and chose to spare his colleagues.

“The infection appears to be attacking his heart and the arteries. Since we thought he had cancer earlier, his immune system was screwed because of the radiation. That allowed the virus to rampage through the body, but since it is attacking his heart first, it should be easier to figure out which virus it is.” he announced with a practiced nonchalance, bending over to retrieve his book and pen from the floor. Everyone shifted their attention to the young Australian, lessened looks of surprise targeted him where he sat.

Chase controlled his urge to sigh in exasperation. Why did everyone have to assume that he wasn't clever? He had been working in the hospital for over five years, more than four of them under House's reign of tyranny, and yet they thought him the dunce of the team. He removed himself from his fuming as House loudly cleared his throat.

“Well now that the painstakingly obvious has been stated,” A disappointed glare was shot at the two stooges standing by the door. “Go and figure out which infection he has!” he shooed them away then turned to Chase. “You, go home.”

“What?” Chase exclaimed, surprised by his sudden dismissal. His mind went straight back to his dream, thus reintroducing his worries of his sleep-talking. Hell, he didn't even know what it meant, what would House get out of it.

“You look like the walking dead and you were sleeping in an back-breaking chair. You need sleep. I won't have you screwing up because the only thing you get out of your beauty sleep is your looks instead of rest.” he paused for a moment, a faraway look in his eyes preceding a mischievous grin. “Gotta go, Wilson has food.”

Chase was confused by so many things right at that moment. His dream of his boss coming to his rescue while his dream-self ogled him, the fact that he showed a slight amount of concern toward him, and the fact that he knew magically when Wilson had food for him to mooch. But what confused and scared Chase most of all was how his eyes were glued to his boss' denim covered ass as he limped quickly away. And all he could think about was a tight black and white swimsuit.


	2. Transplants and Photo Booths

Robert Chase had never been particularly close to the Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. It wasn't because he found her intimidating because of her authority in the workplace, nor was it because he found her repulsive (personality or body-wise). He wasn't entirely sure that morning when he drove into work, but standing in her office while she fought with his boss gave him insight into his dislike for the woman.

“House, you can't just assume that because your patient's kidneys are failing that they get to jump to the top of the transplant list!” Cuddy screeched, her high-pitched voice piercing Chase's poor eardrums.

“Dialysis will only keep him alive if not conflicting with any other meds! To save his life we have to give him some of those meds! I'm a doctor it's kinda what I do, you may be unfamiliar with the concept.” House sniped back.

Cuddy huffed and fixed a glare on House, but the corners of her lips quirked up. This didn't go by Chase unnoticed. It was the flick to the switch, illuminating his reason for disfavoring the woman. She was constantly and plainly enamored with House, but totally unaware that she was so obvious about it. The dean fluttered her eyelashes at House as she bit back with sickly-sweet sarcasm, churning Chase's stomach. House seemed either oblivious to her flirtation or uninterested, for his reaction was to calmly ask (or command, since this is House we're talking about) for his patient to top the transplant list. A moment of sighing and complaining later, Cuddy finally caved and agreed.

“Fine, but I will not say anything to aide your efforts to persuade the transplant committee after the fact.” she warned him, then turned to Chase. “Please do everything to find out what's wrong as soon as possible.”

Chase nodded once and walked out of the office, not bothering to make sure whether House followed him or not. His vision was flickering to red around the edges, his anger was so strong. Eventually he found himself alone in the locker room, the silence washing over him and cooling his nerves slightly. But the moment his mind wandered back to her antics, a flash of fiery anger exploded within him and lashed out. He wildly pounded his fist into the nearest locker door, the repetition slowly melting his fury away. When he finally stopped and slumped onto the bench behind him, panting from his enraged exertion.

Looking up at the poor, mangled metal surface littered with dents, Chase felt that the release of his anger was hollow. Even unnecessary to be honest. Pain registered in the back of his mind, pounding in his knuckles but he ignored it. The tracks of his train of thought veered off and sailed away to a hazy scene as he laid down. His eyelids drooped shut as he let his imagination overtake him in his weakened state.

Bursts of sugary smells assaulted his senses; cotton candy, ice cream, corn dogs, candied apples, etc. He looked around to find himself lost within a crowd of faceless strangers, alone. A sinking feeling dropped heavily in the pit of his stomach, weighing upon his knees to make them shake a little. As he felt his lungs squeeze and his ears pound, a strong hand latched onto his wrist out of no where and pulled him out of the throng.

When his senses expanded and he could breath again, Chase took a deep gulp of air to relax his lungs. But as soon as he caught his breath, the hand pulled him away again. As they moved quickly among the people around them and stands selling fatty foods, Chase looked around. Chattering, bells and whistles, and music mingled through the air. Stands for food and games were in rows on both sides, lines of young children and their parents crowded before each of them. Over the tops of them, he could see spinning rides and tracks from roller coasters reaching into the sky. Then he realized he was at a summer carnival, being dragged around by a stranger.

All of a sudden, he was pushed through a curtain into a very small space. He looked around to find that he was sitting in a photo-booth, then the stranger joined him. When he finally got a glimpse of their face, he found himself unsurprised to be staring into a pair of warm ice-blue eyes. A cane was hefted onto their laps and a leg moved full into the booth with a strained grunt, then a unshaven grin dazzled Chase's brain.

“You okay now? Wouldn't want you fainting and getting run over by that mob out there.” House chuckled. Chase rolled his eyes and smiled faintly.

“You're the one who dragged me around without even telling me who you were! I thought I was being abducted!” he protested halfheartedly. Chase felt a warm sensation bubbling in the back of his throat, making him feel giddy. He hadn't felt that way since long ago... and he had missed it.

“I was rushing to your rescue! How unappreciative!” House mock squawked indignantly.

“I think you mean you were limping to my rescue. Hard to appreciate that.” he jeered, a faint blush gracing his cheeks at the thought of House coming to his rescue. House rolled his eyes at the remark and turned to the camera in front of them.

“Well, since we're here...” he trailed off, sticking his hand into Chase's pocket. The young doctor shrieked and jumped, surprised by the sudden assault. House removed his hand with a jingle and opened it to show the blonde the quarters residing in his palm.

“Did you think I was coping a feel or something?” he asked, smirking and staring into sea-green eyes. Chase's face exploded into color, making him look away. As House deposited the coins, Chase looked to the camera and forced himself to smile.

The first flash captured their regular smiles, House's cocky smirk and Chase's shy grin. But as the flashes continued, Chase noticed House moving closer to him in the already cramped booth. As the second flash blinded them, House had snaked his arm around Chase's waist. He jumped slightly and looked up into smoldering blue eyes. His eyelids drooped as he felt House's warm breath on his cheeks and the third picture was taken. Chase felt the seconds bleed away as time was forgotten between the two doctors, floating in their own world. House's eyes glanced down to Chase's lips and a smirk blossomed on the older man's face. Soon Chase was tasting sugary cotton candy on House's slightly chapped lips and keening in response to stubble rubbing roughly against his smooth skin. Electricity coursed through their connection and sent waves of prickled sensations into his veins. But as the fourth flash went off the light enveloped everything and he felt the tug of reality pulling him from fantasy.

The locker room bled back into his vision, only with one difference. House, leaning over him with a mixed look of amusement and indifference. Chase sat up quickly, trying to keep his face from portraying any guilt, while House just glanced at the mutilated locker then back to him.

“Did the locker make fun of your hair?” House asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow.

Chase flushed and looked down at his faintly throbbing hand, hollowly realizing he probably fractured a knuckle. He heard House walk over to his side, but he jumped when a nimble-fingered hand reach out to grab it. Chase worried for a moment what his boss' intentions were until he felt those fingers rubbing around his wound soothingly. He looked up to find House's face apathetic but his eyes swirling with concern.

“You should get this wrapped.” House threw out, almost sounding as if it were an afterthought.

As he limped away, Chase was wistfully wishing he had those pictures from the carnival photo-booth.


	3. Worms and Butterfly Nets

Screaming filled the small clinic room when Chase entered in the early morning. The chart on the door listed mundane symptoms and personal information he could honestly care less about. Another patient amongst the stream he had been riding all morning, diagnosing runny noses and pulled muscles with a detached consciousness. He watched himself handle overreacting mothers, delusional elders, and the occasional junkie with a mask of warmth and professionalism. But behind it he felt tepid.

Chase chose to work his clinic hours in the mornings to avoid House related distractions. Not the patients since he knew his colleagues were more than capable of handling them without him if an emergency arose, but the doctor himself. Since the older man never stepped foot in the hospital until well after 10:00 AM, it gave him sufficient time to collect himself from his dreams of each previous night.

Each and every night, Chase found himself falling asleep to recollections of his fantasies during the day and continuing them on through the night. Each day his daydreaming would end on an innocent note, a sweet kiss or a passionate stare, but when he closed his eyes to sleep his imagination exploded. Entire hours spent in a perpetual state of lust and passion, writhing in his sheets moaning softly to no one until he was slicked with a layer of sweat in the morning. When his shrill alarm woke him from his dream each morning he thanked God that he lived alone and had a shower so close to his bedroom.

As he calmly listened to his screaming patient's ravings about how he had done nothing wrong, eaten nothing different, gone nowhere new, and so on an so forth, a serene haze ghosted through his vision. Green grassy hills rolled out under his feet, clear blue skies stretched over his head, a fresh clean breeze filled his body and expanded his mind out past the horizon. He could feel the warm rays of the shining sun on his lightly tanned skin as he took in his surroundings slowly. Chase stood within a large meadow surrounded by a forest exuding a sort of friendly warding. Colorful wildflowers dotted the sea of green like accents instead of distractions and highlighted the breeze with a sweet scent. But most beautifully of all, Chase took in the butterflies fluttering around him.

Everywhere, wings flapped and vibrant colors winked at him as the dancers of the sky went about their day peacefully. Blues, greens, reds, yellows, and oranges played hide-and-seek behind light grays and browns coyly drew a soft gasp from the doctor. A living rainbow flitted around him and brushed against his skin occasionally, soft wings feeling so frail yet beating strongly. Chase feared to blink in case this sight may disappear in a brilliant wisp and be lost forever. But as his eyes protested their dryness, he heard a brush of grass to his right. An invisible hand squeezed his heart and he blinked his eyes feverishly as his mind supplied an explanation for the noise. What he turned to find was not at all what he had expected.

A squirrel bounded across the meadow jovially, bobbing through the mid-calf high grass back into the forest without a care.

Chase released a breath he hadn't known he'd held with a disappointed stare. A squirrel? Really? His spirits plummeted as his high hopes dropped him into a cool pool of dissatisfaction. A small flicker of hope began to dim within him as a shadow flickered over him in an instant and a whisper of something moving quick through the air mingled with the chirping birds and buzzing bees. Suddenly something covered his entire head, causing him to yelp and jump. He tangled with the mysterious item covering his face when he realized what it was.

A butterfly net. Someone “caught” him in a butterfly net!

A smile broke out and warmed his face with a light blush. He knew just the man who would have the childish audacity to do something so immature. Chase turned around and pressed his face to the netting so he could peer through it and his smile grew even more at what he saw.

“Hey, House.” he laughed, ignoring the fact he probably looked ridiculous.

“Well, hi there. Done freaking out already?” the older man inquired with a smirk.

Chase rolled his eyes but couldn't quell his grin. He felt a warm pressure in the back of his throat that made him want to giggle like a schoolgirl, but he knew too well what that would bring upon him since House was there. His feelings weren't hard to solve, like a ten-piece puzzle, just needed enough pieces to see the picture. Not to mention a three year old could figure it out as well.

“Excuse me for being startled when something just suddenly caught me. I assumed that it was a normal reaction for us mere mortals.” he shot back, a smirk ringing in his voice.

House returned the smirk and lifted his net, allowing Chase an unaltered view of his face. House was wearing safari apparel; tan shorts and short sleeved shirt, hiking boots, and even a hat to match. Chase would have laughed if it were anyone else, but he couldn't get over how hot House made it look. His eyes trailed down long denim-less legs and strong arms. When House shifted his weight to his good leg, Chase caught a glimpse of his scar but didn't say anything. Why ruin the moment with something that didn't matter to him?

“With your hair, I doubt you could be considered a mere mortal. But I didn't come to chat,” House announced, reaching to his back to pull another butterfly net out of nowhere. “Here. To the hunt!”

“Is that why you dressed up like the Crocodile Hunter?” Chase chuckled and took the net from him. “To hunt some butterflies?”

House smirked at him as if to say “Would you expect anything less from me?” Chase smiled and chuckled. He looked out to the field and saw that the flock had thinned, but several brightly colored fliers had remained. They rushed out and all that was heard was jovial laughter.

Several minutes later, they had caught and released every butterfly until they eventually flew away. In their exhaustion, Chase and House fell down on the ground next to one another panting heavily. They looked over to each other and burst into more laughter. As they calmed down, their eyes met again and the space between them disappeared. Fingers curled around each other, eyes locked, a now cane-less hand cupping a cheek, and a hand covering it. Warm breath ghosted across Chase's cheeks and soft lips lightly nipped at his bottom one. As they parted for breath, Chase closed his eyes and smiled lazily.

“Doctor?” He heard. “Doctor Chase?!” Chase blinked rapidly as House morphed into the purple-faced man screaming at him. He deflated faster than an overfilled balloon suddenly undone. As the ranting patient slowly became louder, Chase's patience dwindled. Soon enough, he snapped.

“Sir! You may have done nothing differently, as you have stressed, but that doesn't change anything!” he yelled, shutting the man up. “The same lunch you've been eating for years gave you a parasite that is slowly eating away at your intestines. So the longer you sit here yelling at me, the less time we have to get it out. Now if you don't mind,” he snarled, walking to the door and opening it. “I'll schedule your gutting.” He walked out and slammed the door behind him, catching the attention of everyone in the Clinic. His fury clouded his ability to give two shits, so he stalked up to the Nurse's Station and slapped down the clipboard, informing the head nurse of the procedure his patient required.

As he turned to storm out, he saw House chuckling in the glass exit. His anger shriveled up as the cool blue eyes washed over him like a calm stream. When he walked by him, his face flushed brightly and he felt something warm and familiar brush up against his hand. Something that had been holding a butterfly net.


	4. Lupus and Neckties

Chase hated Dr. Allison Cameron sometimes. Like the way Foreman hates how he's turning into House, how Cuddy hates House's antics, or how House hates a boring patient. The little things he could overlook, moral ramblings and patient meddling, they happened enough to be bland to him. But while most would find those flaws important, he focused on matters that hit closer to the heart.

Her affections were far more than fickle, they were downright erratic. Flip-flopping between a juvenile crush on House and an idea that she could easily get into Chase's pants. It would never happen though, no matter how attractive everyone thought she was, Chase knew that her heart was too scarred and hard for there to be any chance of real happiness. Her flirtation was obnoxious to the point of infuriating, giving Chase the urge to trip her in the lobby. Childish, yes, but it would feel oh so good.

“Chase! Are you listening to me?” Cameron yelled, snapping her fingers in front of his face. Chase blinked and looked to her, quickly quelling his usual annoyance with her way of getting his attention. He had, in fact, been trying to ignore her, but it never seemed to work. She was rambling about her new boy toy or something else irrelevant to him.

“Yes. You're excited that Aaron is coming back from Washington, where he was regaling everyone on his mastery in cardiology.” he drawled, inspecting his nails like those girls do in the annoying teenager shows on Oxygen. Cameron glared at him for a moment and was about to go off into another tangent until House burst into the room.

“Morning my slaves!” he announced, but stopped short twisting his head about to survey the room. “Where's Blackula today? Sleeping in in his coffin of misery?”

Chase chuckled and Cameron rolled her eyes, sighing in annoyance. Chase gave her a subtle look as she turned to House. That was another thing that irritated him. Her genuine vexation with House's antics and humor, which seemed to only fuel her mission to change him. Chase didn't want him to change, apart from his addiction. He liked House for his mischief and dry humor. You take away those and you're left with a boring doctor.

“He's out with the flu.” Chase cut in, interrupting Cameron's complaining and catching House's attention. “A bad case, apparently doctors can't remember to get their shots.”

House and Cameron stared at him for a moment, minutely shocked from his stark sarcasm and subtle bitterness. And why shouldn't he get to be bitter? Stuck with Cameron all day while she gabs and gabs about her boyfriend? Tripping her on a flight of stairs was getting more and more appealing. House stared at Chase for a moment and a smirk soon graced his face.

“Well, since duckling number two is out, number three will have to step up for him!” he exclaims jovially, turning to a surprised Dr. Cameron. “Number three,” House dropped a case file in her arms, causing her to flinch in shock. “Go chat up our new guinea pig, then after they lie to you, run a blood panel and hook 'em up to some steroids.”

“Why can't-” Cameron started, glancing over at Chase.

“He's busy.” House cut her off with a tone of finality, earning a glare of defiance, but no protest. She stormed off, heels clicking loudly down the hall. When the door shut be hind her, House turned to the younger doctor with a blank stare.

“What's eating at you today?” he asked, without a smirk or a raised eyebrow. This was a sarcastically worded question wrapped in an air of concern and seriousness. Chase blushed but didn't look away, captivated by those piercing blue eyes. The subtle worry melted the cold facade House normally wore and icy eyes washed away to become endless oceans. And Chase just wanted to get lost at sea. He snapped out of his ogling and sighed in irritation.

“Cameron.” House's mask refroze and he smirked.

“Figured, what'd she do this time?”

“She couldn't shut up about her new boy toy. I got irritated.” Chase answered, trying to seem aloof as he reigned in his annoyance. He didn't fool House though, earning a smirk and a twinkle of blue.

“Well, try to avoid her grabby claws for the night, Cuddy is making me go to some fundraiser.” House said, walking towards his office. Chase smiled and rolled his eyes.

“So obviously I'll have to go too?” he asked, turning to the older man. House stopped with a hand on the door and turned to look over his shoulder.

“Of course, how else could I survive the boredom?” he smirked saucily, pushing the door open before Chase could react. He blushed and colorful images flashed across his vision. Blood red carpeting laid beneath a mahogany bar, tables, gold upholstered chairs and stools, and a spotlighted mini stage. Red and gold wallpaper circled the room, the gold giving a dull sheen in the low lighting reflected in the mirror behind the bar. Clean cut men in form fitting suits chatted up women in classy, yet eye-catching dresses of deep colors holding thin glasses filled with champagne. Classic jazz from the band on the stage flowed through the air seamlessly, mingling smoothly with the low murmur from the patrons. A picture perfect club right out of the 50's.

Chase's eyes widened in awe, taking in the room and how out of place he felt. He looked down at himself and found he was wearing a cream suit, light blue button-up shirt, and a dark gray tie. A single red rose was pinned to his lapel, mingling with the scent of sweet liquors and cigarette smoke. His golden hair was slicked back with a single lock dangling down between his eyebrows and he could see there wasn't any gel in it. As he was occupied with his new apparel, a slow ballad streamed from the band and a strong hand grasped his arm.

He turned to find House, breathtaking in his new clothes. A dark gray pin-stripe suit, black shirt, blood red tie, and a dark gray fedora with a black ribbon all gave him a striking appearance. Others around them whispered as Chase smiled and House's hand slid down to interlock their fingers, but Chase couldn't care less. The rough palm rubbing in his hand was the only thing keeping him from floating up on a cloud of delight. House took a step back and bowed slightly.

“May I have this dance?” he asked staring up at Chase as he kissed the back of the young doctor's hand. Electricity surged through the contact and set Chase's cheeks alight, burning bright pink. He stuttered slightly before nodding.

House swept him over to the dance floor, a strong arm around his waist and a hand gripping his own. Chase burrowed his face into House's shoulder in embarrassment, he couldn't believe he stuttered like a teenage girl! What was wrong with him? A deep rumble shook House and brought Chase out of his personal pity party to find the older man smirking.

“What?” he asked, indignantly. House's smirk just widened and he leaned down closer to Chase's face, warm air tickling his cheeks.

“You know, you're just too cute when you blush.” he whispered, pecking both of the blonde's cheeks. Chase gaped and flushed, only making House trail lingering kisses down his neck. A soft moan escaped Chase's lips and House moved back up to lock his lips in a hot, passionate kiss. Lips molded together and danced intimately. When they broke for air, House pulled his tie up to brush it against Chase's cheek.

“Oh look, you're a chameleon.” he chuckled. “Think I could get you any redder?” House's eyes trailed south and Chase squeaked. He grabbed the red tie and forced House to look up.

“No, I don't!” he squeaked in embarrassment, pulling on House's tie to press their lips together again. He lost himself in the slightly chapped lips before a puff of smoke clouded his vision and everything went white.

Chase fell out of his chair and face first onto the floor. He shook his head, trying to collect himself, when someone walked up in front of him. As his face whipped up, he found a face full of crotch five inches from his nose. Chase froze and slowly looked up to see House smirking lusciously down at him, a red tie in his hand. Suddenly House lassoed Chase's head with the tie and pulled him to his feet by his neck, their bodies so close clothing rustled against each other.

“By the way,” he breathed, minty breath filling Chase's nose. “Its a black tie event.”

Chase mentally hyperventilated as his boss watched his blush rise. Did he read my mind? How did he get the red tie? Why hasn't he kissed me yet?! As House's hand slackened and his eyes slipped to Chase's dry lips, Cameron burst into the room. Chase whipped his head around to face her and House calmly took the tie off of him. Cameron gave them a confused look, but didn't bother asking what was going on.

“He has Lupus.” she said, handing House a folder with test results. He read them over quickly and nodded.

“Yup, seems that way.” When Cameron didn't move he gave her a look. “You know what to do, or do you need me to spell it out?”

She blushed and skittered out of the room, looking as confused leaving as she did entering. House chuckled and Chase released a deep breath. That was way too awkward. House turned with a smoldering stare and a smirk.

“See you tonight.” he said and walked into his office.

Chase just stood there wondering what the hell was going on that day.


	5. Self-Prognosis and Saunas

House sat in his office and thought to himself, forehead etched with consternation. All day he was stuck with his lackies running around whining about some new patient, but he had much more important things to be worried about. He had been very busy with his once true love, online porn sites, the night before and found himself with a very disconcerting situation.

He couldn't get it up.

No matter what he tried he just couldn't. Surfing from site to site and nothing could do the job, not even his last resorts. Races from East to West, positions even he'd never heard of, fetishes that gave choir kids the shivers, and even his dirty little secret, gay porn.

Now, House always liked the reputation of lecher his coworkers painted him with, since it kept most of them away, but he didn't always want an easy hooker to get down and dirty with. It was obvious, to those paying attention, from his apparent “obsession” with Cuddy that easy really wasn't what he wanted but even she couldn't light his fire. Sitting in front of his computer frustrated beyond all compare, House was just about to rip his hair out when he found something that he couldn't believe. A picture of a very wet blonde man lying on the beach in nothing but a Union Jack speedo. And can you imagine House's surprise when he recognized him.

“Chase?” he wondered aloud, surprise rippling his forehead. Of course, only one thing could be more surprising than finding a mostly nude, yet surprisingly tasteful, photo of his Australian lacky online.

And that was finding a not entirely unwelcome bulge in his pants because of said photo.

House sat in front of his computer for several minutes staring blankly at the picture on the screen, so many different things shouting at him. Little voices echoing in his ears, whispering how hot the blonde looked. His golden hair with a coppery shine from the deep sunset. Warm blue eyes that seemed to swallow the mystery and iridescence of the entire ocean. Soft skin stretched tautly over sinewy muscles tough from habits of playing sports as a younger man, holding a golden glow that highlighted each and every curve. An expanse of chest that sported nary a hair, smooth and blemishless.

House's mouth went dry and his vision blurred, a gray haze enshrouding him. He let himself be pulled into the fog, feeling the humid heat drag him along to an unknown destination. Finally the mist thinned and he found himself in a small room panelled in wood. Benches were attached to either side of the room and a wooden box excreting more steam was nestled between them. He looked down at himself to find only a white towel wrapped around his waist, barely reaching mid-thigh. His sharp mind connected the clues and he suddenly knew where he was. A sauna.

“Why the hell am I in a-” House began to mutter before a glass door behind him opened. He turned to find another man wrapped in a towel, with extremely familiar eyes, hair, muscles...

“Hey, House.” Chase greeted with a small, warm smile.

“-Sau...na... Hey.” he answered slowly, looking a little like a gaping fish.

“Something wrong?” Chase asked, full, pink lips pursing in a frown. He walked over to sit opposite of House, but the older doctor saw so much more in the hazy room. The way his hips swayed slightly with each step, making the soft towel shift lower. The soft, yet strong muscles in his shoulders and back shifting almost imperceptibly like a smooth dance beneath his golden skin. House's mouth watered as his eyes raked across lean legs and arms, built by light but regular exercise and running all over the hospital. A hairless expanse of flesh spread across his chest and conjoined with a gentle collarbone. A column of neck that begged House to kiss it, nip at it, mark it for his own. His gaze travelled up to his strong jaw, covered in blonde stubble, his delicious lips, kissable cheeks, and eyes that swallowed him whole. His lips moved and brought House out of his blatant oogling.

“What?” he asked dumbly, not at all paying attention to what the blonde was saying. Chase smiled and rolled his eyes.

“I asked if you were all right.” House could practically feel his pupils dilating.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine.” he chattered quickly, kicking himself mentally. Chase stared into his eyes until something seemed to click and a sultry smirk stretched across his face. House swallowed.

“Really? Are you sure?” Chase stood up and stepped over to sit next to House, clearly invading his personal space. “There has been a bug going...” A whisp of breath warmed his ear and sent a shiver rolling down his spine. “...around.”

“Mm, I'm good.” he groaned softly. Chase leaned over in front of him, positioning them face-to-face barely a couple inches apart.

“Oh? But you look a little flushed.” he whispered, pressing his cheek to House's. “And warm too.”

“Well,” He cleared his throat and turned, their noses brushing. “We are in a sauna.”

“Hmm, true.” Eyes locked and slowly, House's barriers weakened. He was always the one chasing others, filled with bravado and cocky self-assurance. How did he end up switching places with the pretty-boy? A sudden rush of strength filled him, confidence tensing his muscles. His trade-mark mischievous smirk alighted his face and Chase's eyes widened in surprise. A quick tug pulled the smaller man onto his good leg and into his arms.

“Sneaky little Brit, aren'tcha?” Chase blushed and frowned.

“I'm Austra-” House silenced him with a heated kiss, fueled with long pent up lust. He poured his feelings into it, hoping the younger doctor would get the message. House pulled back to catch his breath, catching a look at Chase's face. Looking thoroughly snogged, his eyes were clouded and his lips parted. His chest rose in time with his panting and his arms had found their way around House's neck.

“House...” he moaned, sending a thrill sizzling in House's veins. House smiled faintly.

“My name is Greg.” Chase started and looked up at him with a stare House had never been on the receiving end of before. So much emotion. So intense he could taste it on his tongue.

“Greg.” Chase sighed, smile sweetly. That smile when straight through House and right to his groin.

“Oh god.” He pounced on the young man and ravished his mouth.

Open-mouthed kisses, filled with tangling tongues, and bitten lips. Swollen lips panted for breath and House trailed down to attack his neck. Kiss after kiss, moving south until he earned a particularly potent moan. He smirked and sucked hard, nursing the forming bruise with a gentle lick. Hands roamed everywhere they could reach. Shoulders, ribs, abs, chest, hair, and eventuallywas blocked by the moist towel. House smirked into their kiss and slipped his hand beneath the soft fabric. Sliding his rough hand along the thigh to grip a cheek, making Chase groan wantonly. House pulled back to smirk at the reaction and massaged with his hand to get the blonde to writhe slightly.

“Greg... I need you,” Chase moaned, grasping at salt and pepper hair. “Please.”

House shivered and was just about to give in to his primal side, when the steam thickened. His vision was whited out by the warm mist and he couldn't feel Chase any longer. Air filled his hands and his stomach dropped as he felt himself falling. He jolted awake in his office again, his desktop filled with dropping photos of motorcyles and sports cars. House ran a hand over his face and sighed. His door opened and he turned to find his team walking in with assorted looks. Cameron looked frustrated, Foreman was puzzled, and Chase looked thoughtful.

“What?” House asked, reigning in his breathing and crossing his legs to cover his “personal” situation.

“The patient diagnosed himself.” Chase answered, a wistful tone to his voice. House looked over at him with a question plain on his face and Chase continued. “Turns out he was keeping certain symptoms to himself and figured out what he had before we could get the whole story from him. He has amylodosis.” House thought for a moment, nodding slightly.

“Hmm, have you started the treatment?” Cameron perked up.

“Yes, he's responding well and he'll be fine in a couple of days.” she cut in before Chase could respond, earning a frown from House. He brushed it aside and replaced it with a simple bored look.

“All right, go home and find me something fun tomorrow.” They began to file out as he muttered to himself. “Self diagnosis... He's not the only one.”

Chase turned back to catch House's gaze with a curious look, hope swirling in the back. He left moments after and left House in contemplation.

Now what?


	6. Testing and Pool Sticks (White Gloves)

House stood in the bar and looked around, leaning against the oak counter with a glass of liquid amber in his hand. Through the permanent cloud of cigarette smoke, he could make out the silhouettes of his personal slaves all sitting in a booth. He smirked softly, barely a smile but he couldn't resist. Cameron was talking, it seemed the entire time since they entered, about her recent romp with the doctor boyfriend who ran off to D.C. again. Foreman was nodding half-heartedly with his nose in his phone texting his new flame (Wendell- or Wendrick- or Wendy whatever) while waiting for some test results. And Chase... House licked his lips.

A lock of blonde hair dangled between his blue eyes, barely blocking the crease betwixt his eyebrows. House chuckled softly, earning questioning stare from the bartender, and sipped his drink. Chase looked miserable, whether or not he thought he was hiding it well. It was funny to House, how quickly he had fallen for the Australian doctor. He never said the word, didn't even want to think it. There'd be no going back from that. House had fallen for that before and he refused to let himself be led into a one-sided delusion by a fickle heart and a couple of uncontrollable erections in the middle of cases.

Looking away before the psychic little bugger felt him staring and mesmerized him with those pretty blue eyes, and those plump pink lips, and those chewable cheeks, and- NO! No, making plan, making plan. He gazed over the skeevy bar, over the half-asleep patrons, the cigarettes seeping thick clouds, the pool tables with players bent over playing- Oh! ... Oooooh.

House smirked, looking very akin to the Grinch when he had his awfully wonderful thought. Setting his empty glass on the bar along with a handful of dirty bills, he ignored the strange look he was getting from the awfully nosey bartender and stepped away. Striding across the bar, bad indie rock music thick in the air and a deep thump as his cane hit the hardwood floor, House never stopped staring at his unsuspecting victim. Cameron and Foreman eyed him warily, shocked to see him in the same building after hours, while Chase had his eyes closed trying to block out the entire crowd. He seemed uncomfortable, fidgety sitting beside his coworkers, and was probably dragged along against his will. House mentally blamed (and secretly thanked) Cameron for it; she had finally noticed Chase’s tense attitude at work and was working at either loosening him up or finding out what was bothering him. House chuckled at the thought of that conversation; Cameron’s reaction would be priceless.

House cleared his throat and the glass covering Chase’s eyes fell to allow him to see the older man. A smirk arose at the sight of Chase’s shock and House murmured a greeting filled with his usual charm. As the younger doctors stared at him dumbly, House rolled his eyes and wondered how they functioned at the hospital if they reacted so easily to him in the real world. Chase easily snapped himself out of his stupor and attempted a bored expression that House saw through instantly.

“House, what are you doing here? Wilson grounded?” Chase sighed and fidgeted in his seat more. House smirked and chuckled under his breath. Chase was right in a way, Wilson’s harpy of a wife was throwing a dinner party in some vain attempt to keep their marriage afloat and he was most definitely _not_ invited.

“Hm, yes, a kept man is often busy with a harpy. I was just visiting when I saw my ducklings out drinking on a school night. I’m very disappointed.” He shot the other two a faux-upset look that had Cameron looking away guiltily and Foreman rolling his eyes. The night apparently had been ruined for the two of them and they left. Cameron scurried off, turning to throw House a look of apology mixed with a tint of want, and Foreman just lurked off without looking back. House chuckled and turned back to the last duckling, still sitting with a glass in his hand. Chase dropped the mask and sighed heavily.

“Well, at least you scared them off. I was worried any longer and I was going to stab Cameron with a pen. If anything, I wouldn't hear the end of it for years if I weren't sent to jail.” He lifted his glass and downed the last of his drink with a shrug. House smiled and imagined it. Of course it would be complained to death about, but he doubted Cameron would ever press charges against the Aussie. She was a girl with a fickle heart and it wasn't in her nature to lock away men she thought she could sleep with.

“I don’t blame you. But now that they’re gone I see you’re all alone and ducklings don’t do well on their own. Especially drinking ones. Up for a game?” He jerked his head behind him toward the pool tables. Chase looked at him warily for a moment, almost afraid. House hid his confusion well and just waited for his response. The blonde looked away sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck with a hand.

“Well… I would but I don’t know how to play.” He grinned lopsidedly and House groaned very softly, nearly falling apart at the sight of it. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but he slid it aside to be contemplated later and digested away from the public. House shook his head and feigned an exasperated sigh.

“Then I’ll have to teach you then.” House grabbed Chase’s wrist and pulled him up, strong enough so their bodies were flush against each other. Chase’s face exploded with color and House smirked. “I am a ‘hands-on’ teacher by the way. Unless you don’t think you’re up for it?” Chase’s brows scrunched and he frowned, carefully stepping away from the older man.

“I’m fine, I can take anything from you.” Chase retorted, a rebellious look about him that screamed disdain at the thought of backing down. House’s eyes glittered with mischief and he tugged the blonde over to the tables.

“All right then,” He grabbed a stick and passed it to Chase. “Do you know the general rules and point of the game? Or do I need to go over every-“ A touch to the back. “Single,” Another trailed down the arm. “Thing?” One last caress to the back of the neck fringed with blonde locks. A shiver ran through Chase and he coughed lightly, shaking his head.

“N-no, I know the game, just not how to actually physically play.” He breathed shakily, gripping the pool stick tightly. Chase made no move to escape House’s bubble of control, two inches of warm air separating chest from back. House smirked and leaned closer, lips lightly brushing the shell of the younger man’s ear. As Chase shivered and leaned back instinctively, House lays a hand softly on a shivering shoulder. _Best not to spook him now, it would only make things harder at this point._

“Oh, well that’s easy. Just hold the stick under your forearm with your hands apart like this,” He moves Chase’s hands apart and raises the pool stick above the table. “And spread your legs apart,” Feet slide between shorter legs and nudge them apart and one steps back in place. Chase flushes and his skin hits a feverish peak, which made him look even more delectable to the older doctor. House began a mantra of _control, control, control_ in his mind but was interrupted by the blonde’s cleared throat.

“A-and then?” he whispered, his legs shook weakly but a tinge of excitement in his voice, a bit of hope. It was all House could do to keep himself from ravishing the younger man on the pool table in front of the rest of the dwindled crowd. His rushing blood and tightening pants screamed in his mind but he clamped down on his urges and used up the last of his self-control for the last lesson.

“Then you lean over the table,” Hot, steamy bodies pressed flush against one another moved together over the edge of the pool table. Leaning down far enough for Chase’s pin striped shirt to lightly graze across the green fuzz, House turned to bury his nose in golden locks smelling deeply of peppermint and stainless steel.

“Line up your shot,” Slowly, he twisted their torsos to line the end of the stick with the off-white cue ball covered in scratches and mystery stains. He laid one hand over the hand gripping the opposite end and used the other to slip the stick between two soft knuckles and fingers.

“Slide the stick between your fingers,” His voice carried a deeply suggestive undertone and Chase’s hands began to shake softly as his breathing quickened. House steadied the stick with his own hands, callused palms stilled flushed hands and he could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears. “And make the shot.” He guided Chase’s hand to surge forward and hit the ball exactly in the center. The mutli-colored balls all fluttered around, ricocheting off of the walls and each other. Neither of the doctors were paying attention to which were sunk, only captivated by the other body brushing against their own.

Chase let out a shaky breath and, as they began to straighten, turned to face the older doctor. House took in the sight of him with his pink cheeks shining gently with sweat, parted lips slightly swollen from teeth holding back wanton noises, and his eyes nearly black from his exploding pupils. He had never seen a more pornographic sight in his life, and with him that was saying a lot. House stared into Chase’s glassy eyes filled with nervous desire; forbidden emotions that threatened to ruin them both and toss caution to the wind. Then an image flashed across his vision: white roses.

_White roses weaved into an arch over a matching white stretch of carpet, strewn with white rose petals. Stark against the rich green grass, House saw his black dress shoes shuffling beneath him, swaying him side-to-side on the end of the path of fabric._

Chase pressed their bodies together and House shifted his hips, eliciting a moan from the slight friction. Soft hands traveled slowly up his chest and dragged his now itchy shirt over his too sensitive skin. He slid his hands around Chase’s slim waist and pulled his dress shirt from the confines of his pants. Quickly slipping them under the fabric, House’s hands ran over hot flesh and a lean back not too long ago pressed against him. Another picture flickered.

_He took in his black tuxedo, pressed and trim, clinging to him in all of the right places. Looking to his left, he saw Wilson smiling encouragingly next to a handful of coworkers and old friends. To his right he sees a few people he doesn’t immediately recognize, but with the tans and blonde highlights he gets a faint feeling of familiarity. And out before him he sees a small crowd of faces containing some people he knew and some he couldn’t place. His mother sat in the front row, clutching a handkerchief and sporting tearful eyes. For some reason he smiles._

“House…” Chase breathes, as if the word steals this breath away. Ice blue eyes drift down to stare at his lips, moist and plump. Much like peaches, ripe and ready for picking, devouring. House splays his hands across shoulder blades and feels fingers thread through his salt and pepper hair, digging slightly into his scalp. He shuddered slightly and could feel warm, wet breaths mingle with his own. They were so close, so ready when his mind turned to white again.

_He could hear music, a soft piano playing from speakers bolted to trees, and recognized the tune. He wrote it, a few days ago after a particularly fluffy dream, and smiled at the thought. Everyone in the seats turned and he followed their gazes to quite a sight. Chase walking alone in a vision of pure white, from his white bowtie to his shiny white shoes, except for a pair of sapphire cufflinks on either wrist. He held a bouquet of white lilies in his hands and stepped up to face House. The woman between them began speaking loudly, rattling off catholic phrases and a mini sermon, but the two men weren’t paying attention as they gripped each other’s gloved hands. Once again enraptured by the other man standing before them and House felt his lips quirk up into a crooked smile._

“It’s Greg,” he rasped, the huskiness of his voice deepening the baritone and making the other man gasp delicately. Chase licked his lips and whispered it back, seeming to taste it almost. House pressed him impossibly closer and cursed the day clothes were invented. Their noses brushed lightly, another source of scintillating contact shooting heat and fireworks through House’s system. Was this how it felt to stick your finger in an electrical outlet? His mind went blank as Chase’s eyes slid shut and he moved to brush silky smooth lips against the other’s. Lights exploded behind his eyelids and his heart danced as the kiss remained soft and tender. House couldn’t remember the last time he had so much raw emotion directed at him in a positive way and he couldn’t be bothered to remember. But between the tender touches and caresses, a final scene captured him.

_The white noise of the woman’s voice shifted tone and transformed into a questioning quality. House never looked away from Chase, blue eyes melting away the world around them into a white-washed world filled only with them. The blonde’s lips moved, forming two words that filled House with warmth and tingling, and he felt his voice echo them. He tasted the words on his tongue and they felt right, permanent, final. Almost like a promise. No, exactly like a promise. More words from the woman and they kissed, a feeling so familiar and yet filled with new sensation. Pulling back, he could hear cheering around them nearly deafening him, but he could pick out three words from his Aussie._

“I love you.”

House’s eyes opened and saw Chase’s widen in alarm, suddenly aware of what he said. It was obviously a slip of the tongue, a well guarded secret or a sudden revelation that was supposed to remain within to be internally debated about, but there it was. Out in the open, laid out stark naked for the world to hear, see, touch, and never to be taken back. Not now, it was too late. House deliberated for a moment whilst catching his breath. He was panicking, sure, but after the little spell he had it was almost a confirmation of his own confusing feelings. Removing his hands from Chase’s body/clothing, House straightened himself while observing Chase’s nervous and anxiety-ridden movements to put himself back into place. He didn’t say a word, neither of them did. After a moment of awkward silence and fidgeting, House’s phone pinged before Chase could ramble. He took it out and read the message.

“The test results are in.” He fixed Chase with an intense look, trying with all his might not to send any hostile or disapproving vibes. This was in no way a rejection. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, get some rest.”

He turned and grabbed his jacket from the pool table, the varnish on the wood still glazed in a layer of steam. As he brushed by, he grazed his knuckles against Chase’s in what he hoped was soothing and left. His thumb rubbed the inside of his middle and index fingers within his fist as the faint memory of white gloves still echoed in his mind.

 

 

 


	7. Flat-Lines and Hello Kitty Band-Aids

It was too clean.

Was too fast.

Too quiet.

From preparing the solution, the exact way so save a life that could go on, to frantically rushing about in a panic to preserve vitals long enough to administer the medicine. It was a blur now, a memory perpetually played in fast-forward when recalled, but at the time it was like moving through molasses. He could see everything all at once and knew from the moment the monitors became screeching that it was all in vain. White coats and colored scrubs zipped about trying (futilely) to prolong the young man. There was so much yelling, a seamless stream of medical jargon that a civilian would only stare stupidly at, and for the first time in a long time House couldn’t move.

It was hard enough in the beginning of the case when even he had barely an idea what the man had, but when he was finally forced to visit the patient he was shot. Emotionally of course, but he knew the actual feeling of a bullet piercing flesh and this was nearly as bad.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, soft but chiseled features and an innocence that was strikingly reminiscent of House’s recent obsession hit him hard. For some odd reason, it drove him. Harder than his usual pride and arrogance, seeing Chase in the dying man made House a touch crazy in the beginning. But then, when he spiraled in spite of the treatments and his hardest efforts, House couldn’t move. A shade hovered before his eyes and Chase’s face was in the hospital bed, life draining away from him leaving a pale shell barely grasping life. When the tone filled the room, it sped through the air to sneak around House’s throat. It gripped him and drew the breath from his lips until he stumbled out of the room dazed.

Then he left.

Just up and drove, faster than he should have, and stumbled into his house. Not home; it didn’t feel like a home at that moment. It was an empty place filled with memories he just wanted to flush down the toilet along with his Vicodin and booze. He didn’t want it anymore; it was old, boring, useless. The only reprieve came during his dreams (sleeping or daydreaming) when he could wrap himself around Chase and forget about how lonely life really was.

Slumping down onto his couch, House didn’t dare close his eyes and drift off to Neverland. Not after what happened, not after what his mind had already put him through.

~-~-~-~

Chase wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, aside from their patient dying and his coworkers milling around heavy with guilt, but he knew House wasn’t okay. He wasn’t stupid, he saw the minor resemblance their patient held with him and while it was a little unnerving, he was able to detach. But he noticed that the longer they worked the case, the more despondent House became until he spent his time either brooding in his office or sitting on the small couch outside of the patient's room. It was just another House problem on the huge pile accumulating in his mind labeled "House Related Crap."

As the patient worsened the entire atmosphere of the office tightened, became thick with House’s discomfort. The man wasn’t even there most of the time, loitering around the floor their patient was on, but his presence lingered long after he left. Cameron and Foreman could tell something was different, they weren’t stupid or ignorant enough, but were missing the key puzzle pieces that could reveal the whole picture. Of course, Chase was completely fine with that. Even he wasn’t sure what the picture was.

After that night at the bar, he and House hadn’t had the time to talk about what had transpired. To say it had hurt when House left right after his accidental confession would have been a gross understatement. When it had happened he remembered a white shot of fear and burning rejection. An invisible hand clamped around his heart and every thought, every sweet dream, every passionate fantasy turned to ash in its fiery grip. His vision had blurred and he was no longer aware of his surroundings, he wasn’t even sure how he made it home that night (he hoped that it wasn’t Cameron, lord only knows what she may have done to him in his impaired state). In his home he trudged to his room, each step pulling him deeper within himself and farther into the darkness.

He was lost.

Alone.

Broken.

It took a lot to fight the sinking, find a rope to pull himself from the quicksand of misery he was so easily drawn into. But as he lay in his bed, slowly clawing his way back to equilibrium, he realized that he had missed the most important clue, a tip House was rarely known to allow. A look he was too blinded by hurt and confusion to see at that time, but looking back he was filled with something that he knew so well yet seldom experienced. Hope. And with it the sensations and memory of that night rebounded, filling his body to the brim and spilling over with the seductive and sensual grip his newfound hope allowed. Standing in the hospital after everything and defeat looming over them, the feelings were barely touched.

The heat remained on his skin, tingled with every recalled moment they shared and the memory of their bodies pressed together. But in his mind, it seemed the breadth of a hair too far away to reach and he tumbled back to reality where House was closed off and falling apart. So many people wrote it off as House just going through his cycle again, let him suffer in a pool of self-hate and loneliness, but Chase was determined to end it. He didn't know how much more of House suffering he could take before he did something rash like public cuddling.

Cameron and Foreman were moping around the office, their routine after every case that ends with that haunting line, but when Chase gathered his things and threw a farewell over his shoulder they had different reactions than normal. Cameron would usually accuse him of being heartless or horrible person, her thesaurus was always at the ready for new ways to insult him, and Foreman would usually withdraw into his narcissism and brush everyone off with snide comments or condescension. This time though, this time something had broken and what sat there were empty shells that refused to look at him. Chase was just angry, furious that everyone seemed to be falling apart because this man that no one knew looked like him... It was, in all honesty, ridiculously unfair. Turning on his heel, Chase left them to their quiet inner decomposing and strode out to his car. He needed answers and he couldn't find them there amongst his marionette coworkers. He needed to see the puppet master.

But first, he needed a bribe.

~~~~~~

He couldn't feel his arms, or his legs (surprisingly), or his face for that matter. House just felt numb and he couldn't find it in himself to give more than two shits about it. His vision was blurring, from the tears or consciousness retreating he didn’t know, and his mind was filling with wool. It almost hurt when everything faded away, but his general sense of numbness dulled it to a peripheral sensation that was pushed to the side and marked as 'unimportant.' He had promised himself that he wouldn't drift off and become encompassed in his imagination, but sometimes when you're weak, you just let go.

It wasn’t somewhere he had hoped by any means, because really, the places his dreams had taken him so far had been exciting and new. He had been hoping for Vegas or a whole different country even, not the familiar. An examination room at work. Really? His brain brought him here? As if life needed to be any more unfair to him as of late.

Looking around, House didn’t think anything was going to happen. He was alone and he didn’t even have his GameBoy on him, so he assumed this was one of those weird lucid dreams where even though you have control, nothing worthwhile happens. But luckily a knock broke the monotony and he looked over in interest. When the door cracked open, his world brightened for just a moment when he saw those big blue eyes peeked at him.

“Oh! Uh, hi House.” Chase stutters a bit surprised, then looks around the room. “I thought…” House raises an eyebrow and frowns slightly.

“You thought what?” he asked coolly.

“I thought that Dr. Wellbern would be here,” Chase took a step inside looking a bit nervous and his cheeks dusted with a blush. “Not you. I have a, uh… An appointment, routine physical.”

House’s frown dissolved into a Cheshire smile and he sauntered over to Chase, putting a hand on his back. He herded the young doctor over to the examination table and up against it.

“Well, I don’t see why I can’t perform the examination. I am a doctor after all.” House purred, walking over to the cabinets to retrieve a stethoscope. Turning back to the blonde, he twirled the end in his fingers with a smile and walked toward him. Chase’s blush turned scarlet and he backed up onto the table, the paper crackling beneath him. House stared hungrily, licking his lips slightly as he saw the want swirling behind the unsure timidity. Subtle, but House thought it best to fan the fire.

“House we can’t! Not in the hospital.” Chase protested feebly as House advanced. His Cheshire grin curled impishly across his face until he threw on a faux offended expression.

“I would never, I just wanted to help out. Since Wellbern is absent I thought I would perform your physical.” He unfurled the stethoscope and placed the ends into his ears. “Now,” he stepped up and the grin returned. “Remove your shirt please.”

Chase blushed furiously and stuttered, squirming slightly until House pinned him with a heated look. Ducking his head slightly, he shucked his lab coat, removed his tie, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt with nervous and shaky hands. House watched hungrily as each button revealed more and more of his favorite doctor, his adorable blush dusting down to his collarbone. That shade of pink-tan was quickly becoming one of House’s favorite colors.

"There." Chase placed his clothes behind him, skillfully avoiding House's hungry stare. He just wanted to jump his bones, that shy expression set in a face framed by soft blonde hair that made House want to gently run his fingers through and pull roughly to expose his delicious throat. His eyes raked down the flushed throat that bled blush down to his collarbone and he was in for it. Nothing could overwhelm him like the sight of Chase's body, those strong muscles resting quietly beneath a sea of taut, bronzed flesh. Well except for one thing...

House looked up to those big blue eyes that finally darted over to look at him. Cerulean filled with an impossible mixture of timidity and seduction that had House broiling with feelings that flashed with a sizzling celerity that left stars blinking in the edges of his vision. Blinking them away in return, House turned his attention back to his plan.

Sporting another smirk, he leaned forward to place the diaphragm against Chase’s chest. The blonde flinched slightly as the cold metal made his skin slowly erupt into goosebumps. House’s eyes grazed across the new texture to pink nipples that hardened along with the tightened skin. After a shiver and a poorly concealed pout from Chase, House removed the diaphragm with a smile and sighed dramatically.

“Well that’s no good, I can’t hear a thing with this thing.” He whined and threw the device over onto the little counter. “Guess I’ll have to go with my back-up plan then…” Chase gave him a wary look.

“What’s your ba-” his question stifled with an involuntary squeak as House pressed his ear against the young man’s chest.

The healthy heart beat a rhythm fast enough for river dancing and House hummed quietly to himself. What he wouldn’t give to truly have this pounding marvel all to himself, but as thoughts of the uncertain reality floated into his mind he shoved them roughly away. It was not the time to simper and sulk over what ifs in a world where nearly nothing worked out for him and he turned back to rubbing his cheek softly against the velvet skin. He could feel the thrumming blood quicken and the gentle shivers of muscles from the Aussie’s embarrassment. Pulling back after a good moment, House smirked up at the flushed man.

“Well, heart sounds fine to me,” his eyes graze down to where the bright blush ends at the younger man’s collar bone. “And your blood flow seems healthy enough.” Pink slowly darkens to a cherry red. Chase’s face screws up into a miffed scowl and House stands, walking over to the cupboards to shuffle about looking for something.

“House, I really do need an examination! They’re mandatory and I could get into some serious trouble if I don’t get the paperwork done.” he complained sternly, but when House turned he couldn’t take a word of what he said seriously. The man really was adorable, sexy, demur, and cuddly all wrapped up in a delectable little Australian package. House didn’t care who they were, but if anyone said that being Australian had nothing to do with his allure, they were lying. Walking over, he pulled a box out from behind him and took a small strip of plastic out.

“You,” he ripped open the package and quickly stuck the band-aid over the blonde’s lips. “Need to stop worrying.”

Chase’s brow furrowed but the little pink bandage remained, the bowed, white Japanese cat staring back at the older doctor. It was almost too much for House and he truly wished he had a camera to capture this unbelievable moment. Lips twisting into a hungry smirk, House’s hands slid onto the strong legs and his thumbs massaged his inner thighs gently. Chase squeaked and he swooped in to press a hungry kiss when the band-aid fell away. Soft lips molded to his and the heat between them set House on fire. So much passion hidden with his young doctor and he could only wish to taste it within a dream.

Running his tongue over Chase's bottom lip, House quickly licked his way into the hot mouth where their tongues met. He wasn't met with any resistance and the wet muscle welcomed his with a languid massage. House smiled internally as he saw the blue eyes roll back and a breathy moan rumble in the back of the blonde's throat. He leaned forward and pulled Chase's hips to his, nibbling down his throat and fully intending to round third base. That is, until a knock sounded at the door. House growled lowly and pulled back.

"Occupied!" he shouted over his shoulder, rubbing Chase's thigh when the blonde jumped slightly. Another knock rapped against the wood and House huffed, pecking Chase lightly before walking over to the door. As he reached for the door a voice spoke on the other side.

"House?" Chase's voice flitted from the other side. House's hand froze a few inches away from the handle and his breath stilled. Another knock rapped and everything around him shattered. Happiness falling to a million pieces and he fell.

He jolted where he lay on his couch and his eyes flashed open, sweat slicking his brow and cheeks. A knocking on his door drew his attention and he shook his head. Must be Wilson, worried about him after he left so early. The story of their patient must have spread like wild fire through the hospital, filled to the brim with chittering old gossips.

Dragging himself up, he slouched over to the door with his bum leg screaming bloody murder in the back of his mind. Grasping the doorknob, he pulled it open and the bitter remark he had turned to ash on his tongue. There was Chase in all his real glory, standing there with a pizza box and a sad smile.

"Hey Greg, we need to talk." House's stomach dropped.

If only he had a Hello Kitty Band-Aid.

 


	8. Dilation and Piano Songs

A mountain had settled itself in House’s stomach and a legion of frogs clogged his throat as he stared silently at his visitor. The young face so open and bare it hurt, the sadness and pain exposed stripped House of the remaining numbness his respite had gifted him.

After leaving the hospital (okay so technically he ran away) he had hoped to collect himself and spend a day or two drowning himself in cheap whiskey and scotch to dull the pain. During the massive hangover, he planned to reflect on the reasons he reacted so violently and recover his sardonic defenses. He had a plan, sort of, and afterword he would be ready to face Chase at work with a well practiced explanation with minimal lying. He wasn't ready, not now. He was unprepared and emotionally hung-over.  
An exposed nerve defenseless and at the mercy of a man whom he had ran from.

‘Oh fuck.’ He thought.

They stood there for a moment, staring straight through one another and silently assessing how much damage each had suffered from in the past several hours. Tension hung heavily in the air and House felt his lungs heave arduously, heart pump furiously with a violent throbbing in his ears, and the mountain dissolved into a torrential typhoon that flipped his stomach ruthlessly. He wondered off-handedly if Chase was feeling like this, a prisoner to sensations that callously tore bits and pieces of him away. He hoped not, he wouldn’t wish this upon anyone. (Okay maybe one or five people came to mind, but not Chase.)

The blue eyes that he had so often lost himself in seemed to dim even further and the blonde interrupted the silence with a heavy sigh. His sad smile dissolved, as if the strain of putting up the front had finally taken its toll, and his stare strengthened. House straightened and pulled his shoulders back, involuntarily reacting to the subtle challenge. He opened the door wider and turned to walk back to the couch, leaving the invitation silent and evident.

Going inside doesn't relieve the tension or encourage conversation. The silence stretched thin in the air, tight and threatening to snap. House couldn't look at him, his chest was pulled down into his belly and yearned to read those aquamarine eyes. He was torn between wanting to ignore the pain and sorrow no doubt swimming in them or hold the pink cheeks tenderly in his hands as he presses soft kisses upon their lids. It was odd, to be conflicted like this. He was usually so decisive and sure of himself that he radiated narcissism and superiority on a regular basis. A verifiable medicine genius, but apparently he too had a weakness.

Chase just sat there, quiet, waiting it seemed though he was the one to announce they needed to talk. The thing was, he had no idea what to say. Not entirely true, the sheer number of things that bounced violently around his head always shocked him but it was picking them apart and finding the best one to start with that was the problem. You’d think after living through so many of Wilson’s monologues he’d pick up some moving metaphors or something. But his tongue was sandpaper and his throat tightly closed. He could barely suck in shaky breaths without falling apart. Tendrils of doubt snuck up and around his heart, laying seeds of dread.

The younger man fiddled with the pizza box and stared at him, casting two cold points on the side of his head. A heavy sigh escaped House’s lips and his muscles loosened involuntarily. The ever-present dull throb of his leg beat a silent rhythm through the silence and his hand went to rub at it absentmindedly. In his peripheral vision he caught the flicker of blue eyes moving to stare at the hand and the corresponding crease between blonde eyebrows. Finally, a soft puff filled the silence and Chase placed the box on the coffee table.

"Greg... You need to talk to me. Please." His voice was small, but the urgency was expressive and held a strength that wasn't normal from the blonde. House didn't even flinch, he needed to make it through this and falling apart more than once a day needed to stop.

"What do you want to hear?" It was an asshole move, yes, but really this was so far out of his element he was practically drowning. He needed a guide of sorts and the only thing at his disposal at the moment was Chase.

"I think I deserve the truth at this point. After everything that has happened..." Bitterness accumulated in the back of House’s throat like bile at that. A feeling of indignancy swarmed in his chest like an angry swarm of bees threatening to escape and ruin everything. Unfortunately, House has never been known for thinking before he speaks.

“… What’s happened. What’s happened from your point of view?” Scorn dripped from his words with an unforgiving droll. Chase stiffened beside him and his face twisted up into a disapproving scowl.

“Oh no, we’re not talking about me. I’m not the one who had a meltdown and ran away.” He retorts with just as much power behind his words calmly, annoyance subtly stabbing the tense air.

A silence settles over them again as House is shaken out of his hot spurt of irritation. He was right of course; being difficult right now wasn’t going to do either one of them any good. Calm washes over him lightly, a cool blanket over his prickles of frustration and anxiousness that twisted and broiled within him. Feelings were not his forte to begin with, but to talk about them was near impossible. The best he’s done is snark at Wilson with a couple of stiff drinks already swirling in his system and cracking his inhibitions enough to allow some form of truth to slip through. This was immeasurably different though, this required tact and sobriety. He thought for a moment to choose his words wisely, or as much as he could.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about the other night.”

A cold chill permeated the air and seeped into his gut after House uttered the words. Chase's face went through a flurry of emotions and expressions, ranging from embarrassment to dreamy-eyed to irritation, before settling on a cold vacancy. He knew it was a touchy thing, that night was a silent proposition and he wished he hadn't blasted off of the rails so spectacularly so soon afterward. The icy daggers in Chase's eyes sliced through the air as he turned to pin House with a frozen glare.

"...The one where you were about to kiss me but got called in and left me hanging for three days? That night?" House held his stare, feeling the sucker punch it was meant to be steal his breath away, but he refused to flinch. "Or the night I told you I loved you but you still said nothing and left? Oh right, that was the same night." The bitter bite of the word 'loved' speared House and his body convulsed slightly, catching Chase's attention and he could see those raging glaciers melt a little. Calming with a deep breath, he wrangled the rest of his temper and tried to speak as calmly as he could manage.

"Do you even realize how new this is? How... much this changes me? What you do to me? It's too much!" It was true, so much had happen in the span of only a month and he was having trouble processing all of it so soon. The tension seemed to leak from Chase and his body slumped slightly, whether in resignation or relief House couldn't tell, and he turned to fully face the older doctor.

"Greg, I'm not Wilson, I'm not going to coddle you or think up some crazy prank that'll take your mind off it. And I'm not Cuddy," The blonde's face puckered at the name slightly and House quirked a small smile. "I'm not going to worry myself into a fit and let you get away with everything. I'm going to be me and that means you're going to have to face this."

House was stunned and more than slightly impressed by the blonde's tenacity and self-reassurance. He hadn't faced anyone so stubborn with him since Stacy and even then she was a bit washy during emotional tiffs like this. Chase's eyes held no remorse for his words but deep within the seemingly calm blue pools, House could see droplets of doubt and fear. This was fresh, this thing they had, and it was only natural for him to be wary after dealing such a blow. But House didn't want that. He knew, objectively and logically, that he needed someone who wouldn't take his crap without dishing some in return. Emotionally, he was still stuck in his angsty teens trying to figure out what he's feeling and how to express it without driving people away. But even in his mind, after sloughing through years of emotional constipation and self-loathing sludge, he picked up on this feeling with Chase. It was real.

Now to get it out.

"... You know the first time I realized I was attracted to you I realized it was something different. With every other person that's caught my interest I've had no trouble confronting them, just jumping in and confidence oozing from me. But... You're different." Chase looked surprised, his eyes widened and his eyebrows disappeared beneath his hanging bangs.

"Different? You were 'oozing' confidence that-"

"Yeah, I know, but do you know how long it took me to work up to it? Figure out a way to plan how to woo you without scaring you away. And even then, the bar was a split decision, I had a plan and when my patience died out... Then that case... Everything was ripped out of my control." Chase's stunned look bled away and was replaced by a subtle contemplative expression.

"... Two months."

"What?" Chase's expression warmed slightly and a small smile bloomed softly.

"I've had an idea you were attracted to me two months ago." House gave him a disbelieving look and Chase sighed tiredly. "Your pupils always dilated when I came near you and you smiled more often at me than anyone else, barring Wilson." House was surprised to say the least, but was once again impressed by the surprises Chase pulled out. He was always proving he was smarted than people expected him to be. Then a thought occurred to him.

"So how long..." He looked into Chase's eyes, searching. Chase smiled and it was clear he got the not-so-subtle question.

"Longer, I won't say by how much because even after working for you for so long I'm still capable of embarrassment. But what I said..." His smile shrank and his cheeks flushed, his gaze darting away to his hands in his lap. "I wasn't lying."

House felt his cheeks warm slightly and, after his initial petulance his reacting like a preteen girl, he was thrilled. They were getting somewhere now. His chest tightened slightly and his stomach thrummed with gentle butterflies, something he hadn't felt since the first few years with Stacy. Feeling a little more confident, now that he was sure Chase didn't absolutely hate him, he shuffled a bit closer to the younger doctor.

"Say it again?" Chase shakes his head, partially at the hopeful tone.

"No, not until I get one back Greg. That's how these things work."

House is quiet for a long moment. He knows he won't be able to say it. Not just right out. It’s too much, too important. He wants to actually do something right with Chase, for Chase. A thought strikes him and he rises to hobble over to the piano. He picks up a piece of paper and sets it up on the stand, flexing his fingers slightly over the keys. A beat of silence stretched thickly between them for a moment. The bitter tang of disappointment radiates from Chase and House's resolve waivers. He shakes himself lightly and steels again, now or never.

~*~*~

Chase wasn't quite sure what was going on when House walked over to the piano. Faintly he got the feeling that this meant something, but his heart didn't catch up with his head. He was angry for the lack of response, this felt like another escape. A weight dropped from his chest to his stomach and a bitter taste crackled on the back of his tongue. When was House going to stop running from him?

House's fingers finally pressed down onto the keys and Chase stopped. A gentle tune fluttered in the air like a light breeze and wrapped itself around him. It warmed him and he lost himself in the subtle but pleasant melody. He couldn't put words to it and he didn't recognize the song. Growing up in the world he was forced to live in by his father, he had been subjected to a variety of classical music, but this was wholly unfamiliar. It made him... feel.

The weight lifted from his stomach, the tightness in his chest was relaxed, and the bitter bile melted away in his throat. His heart beat faster and his cheeks were flushed with hot blood. He didn't know what it signified, but somewhere deep inside he felt it was special, important. House was trying to make a statement with this song and it lifted his spirits to the sky, even if he wasn't sure exactly what he was trying to say.

As the song played on, tinkling in the air, and he could tell the ending drew near, Chase rose shakily. His legs felt weak and trembled and his steps were cautious as they took him over to stand behind the older doctor. He trailed his eyes over the slightly crumpled music sheets and while he couldn't read the actual notes, they were handwritten and that said enough. At the top of the paper, in barely legible chicken scratch, was what made Chase's heart lurch and his eyes widen.

_Robert’s Song_

House had written it for him. And it sounded like this?

He remains shell-shocked until the final note rings out and quietly dissipates into the tense silence. House remains sitting, facing away from Chase with his hands in his lap. Chase's mind is racing and the answer, finally hits him. He puts a hand on the older man's shoulder, which tenses under his touch, and turns him. Icy blue eyes watch him warily; he's bared his soul and Chase has so many questions and things he wants to say bouncing around in his mind but he must be blunt. He breaks out the first genuine smile he's had since he arrived and the ice in House's eyes begin to melt.

"I love you, too." His voice is small, intimate and at first he's worried House didn't hear him until long slender hands frame his face frame his face gently. They're as warm as the bright eyes staring into his, suddenly only inches away and flickering down to his lips. When House's soft, chapped lips pressed over his, Chase's world world turned upside down and electricity pulsed through him. This was even better than he could imagine.

The ocean...

The carnival...

The meadow...

The 50's bar...

Reality; the real House's lips were more demanding and desperate. As if he were going to disappear any moment. They grasped at each other and shared sloppy but passionate kisses, hands rubbing over stubble until they were raw. After pulling back, gasping for breath, Chase grinned and gently sits down on House's good leg.

"I hope you won't always say "I love you" this way, because, honestly, if you get up during or after sex to play a song I'll throttle you." House laughed and pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, the skin flushing beneath his lips.

Chase knew they'd have problems in the future. Maybe House would hide things or put himself in danger and maybe Chase might press too much about the older doctor's past and not return the favor. But he knew they could make it, stubborn as they both were, they would definitely try. They'd gone through too much not to.

There was a knock at the door.

_And the best part was..._

Wilson opens the door and an awkward silence settles over them all. There's a still moment before House grins lasciviously and latches onto Chase's collar bone, sucking a huge hickey onto it. Chase laughs and Wilson bolts back out as red as a tomato.

 _... is that they'd never hide it_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp... thats the end of it... this took me forever to write, as my followers on FF.net can attest
> 
> I hope you liked it, I might write a little smutty thing but I'm not sure
> 
> Leave so kudos and review!~


End file.
